


Moonbound

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Animal Traits, Blood and Violence, Body Hair, Body Horror, Flexibility, Knotting, Loss of Control, Loss of Humanity, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Monster sex, Oral Sex, Pack Dynamics, Painful Sex, Rimming, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Transformation, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, Wolf Instincts, fear kink, god I hope that's it, straddling the furry line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 23:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12543888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: Not only is Jason a werewolf, but Slade is, too. Dick wants answers, but in order to get them, he needs to stay the night with the pack. It doesn't take long for him to find out that there's more to being a werewolf than hunting and howling.





	Moonbound

**Author's Note:**

> SladeRobin Week day 5: Apprentice || Predator. both? both?? both is good.
> 
> this is the longest one-shot I've ever written! it took me quite some time. I think there's still room for improvement, but overall, I'm happy with it.
> 
> I think I went full furry with this fic. no ragrets

Jason wakes up naked in a puddle of blood and bones. That in and of itself isn’t unusual. What’s unusual is the fact that Dick’s there, mouth wide open, looking vaguely green under his mask.

Jason sits up, bones aching, sticky from his mouth to his neck with old blood.

“I can explain,” he says.

_ The change starts off gradual, coming onto him like a fever. He suspects it’s an infection from the nasty bite on his arm. Oddly, there’s no pus; just the red, angry lines of his swollen veins extending outward from the wound. _

_ Then comes the drooling. At first, he thinks,  _ great, rabies,  _ even though he’s been vaccinated for situations like this. But then he feels a deep ache in his jaws, like he’s getting 32 simultaneous root canals, and shit, he’s never heard of that symptom before. _

_ He starts to spit out his teeth around the same time thick hair sprouts up all over his body. By that time, he’s on the floor, too disoriented to so much as think, let alone try to call anyone. He reaches into his own mouth as if this won’t be real until he feels the holes in his gums for himself, but that’s not what happens. Beneath all the blood, something sharp — a whole lot of somethings sharp — poke up where his molars used to be. _

_ At that point, he’s pretty sure it’s not rabies. _

“Jason,” Dick says. It’s clear he’s trying to remain calm, but there’s a tremble in his voice. “What did you do?”

“I told you,” Jason says, pushing himself into a crouch, hand out in a pacifying gesture. “I can explain. It’s not what it looks like, okay? ...I mean, it’s kind of what it looks like. But not really.”

_ He crawls out into the street, because what else can he do? But his safe houses are rarely anywhere crowded, and in the dead of night, nobody else is outside. He can’t blame them. It takes a special kind of bravado to come check out the bleeding, half-naked lunatic spitting teeth into the gutter at midnight. _

_ The crack of his bones can be heard clear as crystal. He shouts until his throat goes hoarse, feeling more than watching his body rearrange itself. That dense hair — no, fur — keeps growing until it’s so thick he feels like he might die of heatstroke. He claws at himself with nails that are suddenly too sharp, and can do nothing but writhe helplessly as his face pushes outward, lengthening into an ugly muzzle. _

_ His blood looks black under the light of the full moon. _

“Why did you keep it a secret from us?”

Dick accepted the story about Jason’s transformation pretty quick. He’s having more trouble with the idea that none of the family had known until now. Wouldn’t have known at all, had Nightwing not been so far outside of his territory.

Jason doesn’t back down, especially not so soon after sunrise, aggressive instincts still lingering in his veins. He snarls. It probably doesn’t help his case, but it’s not something he can control.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he says. “None of you ever do!”

“Try me,” Dick snaps, almost nose-to-nose with him now.

_ He expects to be exhausted by the time it’s done, but he isn’t. All he can think about is the ugly roiling in his stomach. He pushes himself up like a doe learning to stand for the first time, but it doesn’t take long for adrenaline to replace the ache in his muscles. His paws, huge and clawed, dig easily into the gravel, and he sprints off into the night. _

_Wind. Heat. Run. Food. Food. Food._ ** _Food._** _He can think of little else. So close to the rural edge of town, it’s easy to find herds of livestock milling about that he can rip through in his frenzy. His ears catch every one of their heartbeats, each death knell and breath down to the very last. It all thunders in his ears until he’s drowning in an ocean of noise._

_ It isn’t until he’s eaten through three or four farms that he’s able to pick out another sound. Paws on grass. _

_ Someone’s chasing him. _

“He was there for me,” Jason says. He runs a hand through his bangs, sighing. “He was there for me in a way you guys couldn’t be. No matter how hard you tried.”

Dick’s eyes narrow, his jaw set in a hard line. “Who?”

Jason doesn’t want to tell him, but he does.

_ The other creature knocks into him with the force of a freight car. Jason, in his new form, can roll with it, and he comes up snapping. They fight like that, muzzle-to-muzzle, for what feels like forever, but in reality couldn’t have been longer than a few seconds. Then the creature bites down on his neck, just hard enough to make Jason stop moving. _

_ It’s weird. He knows he should be fighting for his life now more than ever, but those teeth in that spot, and a low growl in his ear, tell him otherwise. His instincts tell him to stay down if he wants to survive. _

_ Little by little, his shoulders relax. _

_ Once he’s calm, the other creature backs away from him. Jason looks on, panting. He wonders if he looks the same: like a wolf, but three times the size, stretched out and hunched over like it’s trying to do its best impression of a human. Its shoulders and chest are massive compared to its stomach, which looks almost emaciated. In stark contrast to Jason’s jet-black fur, this one is white, with a long scar over the socket where its right eye should be. _

_ The white wolf growls again, and there are no words, but Jason understands. He settles down onto his stomach, then lowers his head, ears flattening against his skull. His companion comes up to sniff all around his head and neck, searching for something, but Jason’s not sure what. Then, finally, a huge muzzle nudges under his own, and Jason stands. _

_ When the wolf starts off, Jason follows. _

“Slade Wilson?”

Dick uses the type of tone that’d make you feel guilty even if you had nothing to feel guilty for.

“You told  _ Slade Wilson, _ but not your own family?”

“Yeah, well.” Jason shrugs, brushing a flake of dried blood off of his shoulder. “As far as supportive families go, you guys don’t exactly rank too high on the list.”

“Are you serious? You’re still on about that, after everything we’ve been through together?” Dick drops his arms to his sides in exasperation and stares Jason down. “You were right. I  _ don’t  _ understand.”

Jason sniffs. He tries to ignore what Dick’s scent does to him as he stares him down.

“Told you.”

Dick turns, but not before Jason catches the disgusted pull of his lips back over his teeth. “One of us is telling Batman. I’ll do it without you there if I have to.”

“Wait—!”

Dick tenses in preparation to strike when Jason grabs his forearm, but Jason doesn’t do much more than hold him steady. He hopes his wide eyes come off more pleading than creepy.

“Wait. Please.” Taking in a deep breath, Jason runs his free hand through his hair again. “Just— Slade can explain it better than me, okay? Hear him out before you run off and get Mr. Neurotic involved.”

Dick stares at him with narrowed eyes. He seems to take in Jason’s sorry state and his pile of “leftovers” in equal measure. Eventually, though, he sighs.

“Fine. But I don’t like what I hear, and I’m out.”

Jason nods. “Right.”

  
  


Slade is nearby. He always is during the full moon, if he can help it. Lately, Jason’s gotten better at dealing with them on his own, but it’s safer to be with him.

With the pack.

Their safehouse is a cabin located a bit of a hike from where Jason ended up. He walks there as-is, naked and covered in blood (plus some dirt from digging a “proper grave” for his prey’s bones at Dick’s insistence). A few times, he catches Dick stealing glances at him. Below-the-belt glances. He just grins when it happens.

The cabin comes into sight a few yards away. Before they can reach it, Jason’s slammed back hard against a tree.

“ _ Where _ have you been, boy?”

Towering above him, wearing little more than a robe, Slade holds Jason by the neck and snarls. Over his shoulder, Dick has his escrima ready, but Jason waves him off with a subtle twitch of his hand.

“I—”

“Running off again.” Slade doesn’t listen for his answer. He rarely listens. “Do you want my help or not? Because I assure you, I have better things to do than to chase around a bratty kid. I got my fill of that when my boys were a lot younger than you.”

Jason mumbles something and tries not to roll his eyes.

“What was that?”

“I said, sorry.”

“Sorry what?”

Jason glances from Slade to Dick and back again, a flush rising up in his cheeks. He tries to stand tall and look bold, but that’s kind of hard to do when you’re naked and a bigger, older man has you pinned. He frowns.

“Sorry, Alpha.”

Slade searches his eyes for a moment. Too slow for Jason’s liking, he lets go, then turns to stride back up to the cabin. He doesn’t even look over at Dick.

“Well, come in, then. I’m gonna assume there’s a reason you brought him here. And wipe your damn feet first.”

Jason rubs his neck, shoulders slumping. When Dick shoots him a quizzical look, escrima still in his hands, Jason just huffs and follows Slade.

 

He showers in record time, then heads to the dining room table clad in some oversized sweatpants and a faded old band t-shirt (Wolfbrigade; he really does like their music, but the irony’s fun, too). Slade and Dick are already seated, staring at each other across the table, Dick ignoring his tea while Slade nurses a mug of his own. Without his mask on, the look in Dick’s eyes is even more intense than he expected.

There’s nothing set out for Jason, of course. Slade’s mad, which means he has to fend for himself.

After making himself a cup, he sits down between the two of them and drinks away the aftertaste of blood and mouthwash while they stare. There’s something in the way Slade looks at Dick, with a quirked brow and intensely-focused eyes, that Jason recognizes. To tamp down on the growing urge to do something stupid, Jason sets his mug down sharply and starts to talk.

“Dick wants to know about werewolves,” he says. “Packs. That sorta thing.”

Slade turns his raised brow to Jason. “And you can’t tell him because…?”

Jason rolls his eyes. Slade shoots him a hard look, and he shrugs in a sort of apology. “You’ve been one longer than me. And you’re better with words and stuff.”

“No kidding.”

“Bite me.”

Slade gives him that you-know-I-will stare, and Jason quickly looks away. He catches Dick’s confusion out of the corner of his eye, but avoids looking directly at him, staring at a spot on the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dick says. “You’ve been one of those… things... for  _ how _ long?”

“Werewolves, you can say it,” Slade says. “I know it sounds kitschy, but it works. Anyway, it’s been about…” He strokes his beard. “Ten years now? Before I knew about Rose, so that sounds right…”

Dick does a double-take. “And you kept it a secret all this time? From  _ Batman? _ ”

Over the rim of his mug, Slade shoots Dick a smirk and a wink. “I’ve still got a few tricks up these sleeves, kid.”

Jason shudders. He covers it up by downing the last of his tea, then rises to put his mug in the sink.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Dick sounds confused; it’s a nice change from his usual know-it-all attitude. “We had to have run into each other on the full moon before.”

Slade shrugs and leans back in his chair. “That’s the crux of it: more experienced wolves can control the transformation better. Can’t turn it off entirely, of course, but you learn to work around it.”

“So that’s why you’re here?” Dick looks over at Jason as he settles back into his seat. “He’s… training you?”

Jason wipes underneath his nose in the hopes that it’ll disguise his blush.

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Jason, there could be a cure. If you’d told us, we could’ve at least started working on it all this time—”

“No cure,” Slade says. “Believe me, I’ve tried. And tried again.”

Dick glares. “You don’t know that. I got turned into a monster once, I got better—”

“This is different.” Slade doesn’t raise his voice, but his tone changes. Jason can detect it, and it makes him shrink in his seat, but Dick barely flinches. “It’s not science. It’s a curse. A damn old one, at that. Those things don’t just go away if you study them under a microscope hard enough.”

Impossibly, Dick doesn’t back down. “We have allies for that. Zatanna, Constantine…”

Slade sets his mug down with a deliberate  _ clack. _ He straightens up, leans forward, and makes it a point to look Dick directly in the eye.

“If you want to tell me how to deal with something that’s been going on since you were doing push-ups in panties for the Bat, you can go. You want answers, you get ‘em on my terms. Sound fair?”

It’s not a question. Even Dick seems to get that at this point. He shifts where he sits and looks away.

“Fine. I defer to your Harlequin Paranormal Romance expertise, O Wise One.”

Jason snickers. He turns his head away to scratch behind his ear when Slade glares at him.

“That’s your first mistake, kid,” he says, settling back. “Thinking of this like that  _ Twilight _ nonsense. This isn’t anywhere in the same ballpark.”

“I dunno,” Jason says, “I look pretty good with my shirt off, like that one actor. Taylor something?”

“Lautner,” Dick supplies.

“Jesus Christ.” Slade drags a hand over his face. “Okay, you know what? Demonstration time. You two, up.”

Dick looks at Jason, who stares down intently at the rings of wood in the table. He’s not sure where this is going, but he has a feeling he won’t like it. When they don’t move fast enough, Slade barks “ _ Up, _ ” again, and Jason scrambles to his feet before his mind can catch up with him. Dick reluctantly follows.

“Stand there,” he tells them, gesturing to a big, round rug in the middle of the floor. The cabin is all one big room, save for bedrooms and the bathroom, so when they face each other at opposite ends of the rug, Slade can see and direct them without moving from his seat. “Nightwing, attack him.”

Dick blinks, fixing Slade with a look that’s equal parts confused and suspicious. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, attack him. And make it good.” He waves a hand dismissively. “It has to have intent behind it, or else this won’t work.”

“Don’t I get a say in—” Jason starts, but an escrima stick cuts through the air by his head before he can finish.

He ducks just in time to avoid it, but Dick keeps coming. Asshole. He dodges or blocks every blow aimed at him, but each one gets his heart pumping faster and louder.

“The hell? Slade, what is this? You—  _ Ow—  _ I’m not gonna stand here and fucking— Dick, you son of a…  _ Enough! _ ”

The last word comes out like a roar, Jason catching Dick’s arm before his hit can connect. He sees red, literally, and tosses Dick to the floor. There’s no resistance like he usually feels when fighting Nightwing; he goes down like a rag doll.

It’s not enough. Not enough payback for being played around with like a toy, for being attacked for the sake of some experiment. As if Dick is Slade’s. As if Slade isn’t  _ his. _ Jason pounces before Dick has a chance to gather his bearings, pinning him there with a heavy knee and both arms. It keeps Dick’s body twisted in a way that isn’t safe, his torso pointed one way while his legs go the other, and Jason snarls at him, snaps at his face with teeth that are too sharp, digs in with nails like razors that cut through even the material of Dick’s uniform, and Dick’s yelping, saying something, but he doesn’t understand him, just wants to  _ taste _ —

“ _ Heel. _ ”

Jason stops, mouth still half-open and dripping drool down on Dick’s wide-eyed face. He’s not himself enough yet to feel anything other than indignation at being denied a kill, but he doesn’t dare disobey his Alpha. He growls, low and rumbling, but Slade growls louder, and Jason gets a whiff of a strong scent that cuts through his senses and returns some of the world to him.

“Let him go, Jason.” In his periphery, Jason can see Slade on his feet, hand out, palm forward. He sounds calm, controlled. “Let. Him.  _ Go. _ ”

Rearing back, Jason makes a sound like a bark that trails off into a whimper. It’s not something that should come out of a human mouth; it’s bigger than he is, like there’s a massive beast hiding just inside him.

He supposes that’s the truth.

He shakes his head and blows a few harsh breaths from his nose to clear his thoughts. When he looks back at Dick, it’s as if he’s seeing him for the first time. His suit is torn in a few places, he’s leaking fresh blood, and, though it’s almost imperceptible, he’s trembling. Slade offers him a hand, but he just pushes himself back onto his feet, eyes on Jason the whole time.

“What was that?” he asks.

Jason’s too busy taking a mental catalog of all the wounds on Dick’s body he doesn’t quite remember causing, so Slade answers for him. “ _ That _ is what happens when a young wolf doesn’t have any packmates. Without me, your neck would be in your brother’s stomach right about now. Yours and who knows how many others’.”

Jason doesn’t have his wolf ears at the moment, but if he did, he knows they’d be flattening down on his head. His whole body slumps, knees drawing in, shoulders down low, and he looks away so he doesn’t have to see Dick’s expression any more. The one that says Jason is unpredictable. That he’s a  _ monster. _

He didn’t want to ever have to see that look from a family member again.

“We… We’ve seen each other in the past few months, though. Fought people together,” Dick says. “He’s never acted like…  _ that. _ ”

“Not when the moon’s like this,” Jason mutters.

“Week of the full moon, it gets worse,” Slade says. “Any other time, we don’t transform. When the moon rounds out, though… Even during the day, things can go haywire.”

The room falls silent. The air feels thick around them, and, even though he doesn’t want to, Jason can hear Dick’s heartbeat, a few beats quicker than usual, next to the steady, calming monotone of Slade’s. He knows when Dick is about to speak, because his heart speeds up beforehand for a fraction of a second.

“How many people…?” he asks. “Jason, how many people have you killed since you turned?”

“That was the first guy in a while!” Jason snaps quickly. “I told you, he was scum. On the drug dealer circuit. I can recognize people better now, y’know? When I’m… like that.”

Dick turns his head and drops his arms in that disappointed older brother way that Jason hates. “It doesn’t matter who it is. It’s still—”

“It’s  _ different, _ okay?!” Jason hops to his feet, fists balled up at his sides. Slade shoots him a look that keeps him from getting too worked up, but only barely. “It’s different this time. I’m hungrier, I need more to— t-to—”

“To  _ what? _ ” Dick asks.

His face is so hardened, so unaccommodating, that Jason decides he doesn’t want to open up to him after all.

“Nevermind. Not your business.” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweats, shouldering past Dick to get to the hall that leads to the bedrooms. “Slade—” He pauses. Worries his lip between his teeth. “Don’t tell him. Please.”

Then he storms off and slams his door shut.

 

Once he’s gone, Dick turns to Slade.

“Please,” he says. “I just want to be able to help him.”

Slade flashes him a hint of too-sharp teeth and pats him on the shoulder.

“Stick around a while. You’ll find out.”

* * *

The heat that comes when he sleeps feels so much like that first fever, but at the same time, they’re nothing alike. He still shakes and sweats, but there’s no underlying pain, no threat of bones cracking and muscles coming undone and re-threading themselves. This one comes with desperation, with images of people he knows and people he’s only glanced at, all as eager for him as he is for them.

He sees Dick underneath him again, Dick with his uniform ripped to shreds and his lips parted and wet. He thinks of holding him down until he stops struggling, of asserting himself over the golden child once and for all, discovering how it feels to be buried deep inside—

The abrupt screeching of an alarm drags him, sweating and gasping, out of his dream. He reaches over and palms at the night table until he can shut it off. Sunset is close, which means he and Slade have things to do before the transformation starts.

In his sleep, he’d managed to toss off his shirt and pants. He doesn’t bother retrieving them before storming out of the room, clad in just his boxers.

“Slade,” he calls on his way down the hall. “Slade! I need—”

He runs smack dab into someone who definitely isn’t Slade. Which is strange, because despite being smaller, he sure  _ smells _ like Slade. Jason blinks and stumbles back, only to find himself looking down at Dick.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks, glaring. He grabs at Dick’s clothes; not the tight spandex of his Nightwing suit, but baggy ones that belong to Slade. “What are you  _ wearing? _ ”

Dick shrugs him off rather aggressively, and it takes all of Jason’s self-control not to snatch him right back up. He seems to think about the question for a moment before answering.

“We— We still haven’t decided which one of us is gonna tell Bruce about all this.”

Jason gapes at him, makes several sounds that don’t quite become words, and throws his arms up in frustration. “You fuckin’ kidding me? You’re still on about that?  _ Get out, _ you’re not  _ welcome _ here.”

He snarls, teeth bared, taking a step toward Dick. It’s not like he  _ wants  _ to intimidate him until he leaves. He doesn’t want to look the part of the monster Dick clearly thinks he is. But if he stays, he’ll know, and that’s too embarrassing for Jason to bear. Dick steps back, hands up in a placating way, but Jason just growls, damn near barks at him, even.

Then he hears, “ _ Calm. _ ”

Jason backs up a step and watches Slade approach them. He’s placid as ever, still in his robe, with a book in hand this time. Like this is normal. Like he’s forgotten what they’re there to do.

“Slade, why’s he here? He can’t be here! I need to—”

“He’s our guest.”

Slade gives him one of those infuriating little smirks, the kind that, around this time, make his blood rush south. He gets twice as frustrated because of it. Helplessly, Jason takes a step toward him, arms out in a plea.

“You can’t tell him! Are you serious? You think I’d come out to the fucking woods with you if I wanted everyone to know?”

“I’m not telling him anything,” Slade says. “He can watch.”

“Watch  _ what? _ ” Dick snaps. “What the hell is the big secret? Bigger than you two turning into wolves and eating people every month?”

Jason blushes. When he puts it like that, it sounds almost silly, how afraid he is for Dick to find out. But there’s a particular kind of shame associated with  _ those instincts, _ a kind that Jason hasn’t had much experience with. Maybe Dick, he thinks bitterly, wouldn’t think of it as such a big deal. Maybe things would be better for everyone if Dick had gotten bit instead.

He crosses his arms and stares at his socked feet. Slade speaks up to break the resulting silence.

“Would’ve been easier if you’d let me tell him.”

“Fuck, is this another one of your stupid lessons?” Jason asks. “‘Watch what you say,’ blah blah blah. Okay, I get it! Can he go now? Or— Or at least get out of your clothes?”

Dick steps between them, as if trying to remind them he’s there. “Does it matter? I just needed to get out of my uniform for a while. Slade, what aren’t you telling me? You’re the one who offered in the first place.”

“Probably driving him a little crazy, is all,” Slade says, eyes sparkling with a secret joke. “Smelling me all over you.”

“What…?”

Jason starts to growl again while Dick glances between them. The heat in his body still hasn’t entirely subsided, and Slade calling attention to things just makes it worse. He doesn’t even have it in him to deny it. It  _ is _ driving him crazy, Dick walking around smelling like Slade’s put a claim on him.

But the weird thing, the thing that has Jason’s stomach in more knots than usual, is that he doesn’t even know why. Is he mad because he wants to cover Dick in his scent, or because he wants to be the only one who smells like Slade? He still doesn’t have this pack dynamic bullshit down, especially with a human — his  _ brother,  _ at that — caught up in the mix.

Maybe this is another lesson. Or maybe Slade’s just being a possessive asshole. With the way he keeps smirking, Jason would hedge his bets on the latter.

“Jason,” Dick says, urging him to tear his eyes away from Slade. “Jason, hey. Look at me. Is this some sort of— of territory thing? You have to tell me so I know how to help you.”

Jason barks out a laugh — closer to a real bark than anything, only hammering home how close it is to sundown.

“You can’t help me,” he says. “You’d run screaming right now if you knew what was good for you. Slade knows. That’s why he wants you to stay.”

Jason looks over at him, challenging Slade to defend himself. He doesn’t, but the very pointed way he flicks his eyes up and down Jason’s body tells him he’ll pay for calling him out later.

Dick doesn’t even look back. He just sets a hand on Jason’s arm. It’s supposed to be comforting, but he catches the barely-there widening of Dick’s eyes when he realizes how warm Jason is, even when he tries to play it off.

“Jay, how long have you known me?” he asks, this time with a mischievous little smile of his own. “Running away’s not my style. Whatever I’m in for sticking around, I can handle it.”

“This one’s brave, pup,” Slade says, coming up behind them to loop his arms around Dick’s middle, book still propped open in his hand. “Maybe we  _ should _ consider changing up the nightly routine.”

Dick, confused, looks over his shoulder and tries to step away, only to find himself chest-to-chest with Jason, sandwiching him in. Jason’s hands go to his waist, squeezing just a touch too tightly.

“You planned this the second you saw him, didn’t you?” he asks.

Slade grins. “It crossed my mind.”

“Bastard.”

“Um, hey, yeah, the loop?” Dick says. “I’m still out of it. Am I dinner, or…?”

Slade sets his chin on Dick’s shoulder and chuckles, a low rumbling thing that sends shivers up Jason’s spine. “Not dinner,” he says. “Maybe dessert.”

When he turns to lick a stripe up Dick’s neck, it seems like Dick finally gets it. His eyes widen, and, instinctively, he backs up, only to gasp. Jason doesn’t need to see it to know what he’s feeling; he can smell Slade’s arousal, clear as Slade can most assuredly smell his. The way Dick looks at him, mouth opened in shock, makes Jason want to run and hide and will this all to be a weird dream.

“Oh,” Dick says. “ _ Oh. _ This is, uh… this is some kind of…  _ mating  _ thing?”

“You got it,” Slade says with a nip of his ear. “More specifically, it’s your brother here’s first rut.”

Jason bares his teeth. “Slade _. _ ”

“What? He would’ve put two and two together,” Slade says. “Especially if he sticks around long enough to see you hump everything in sight.”

“ _ Slade! _ ”

Jason’s face is entirely red now, all the way to the tips of his ears. More distressingly, he’s rock hard. In his state of undress, it isn’t hard to tell, but Dick, like he somehow doesn’t believe Slade, looks right down at him anyway. His cheeks go cherry pink just as fast.

“That’s, uh.” Dick licks his lips. “I… I didn’t know werewolves did that.”

“Twice a year,” Slade says, sliding a hand up Dick’s shirt. Dick raises a hand to grab at his wrist, but doesn’t execute any of the moves he should know that would get him out of the situation.

Interesting.

“S-so… How does that work when you’re both men…?”

“Nobody’s getting pregnant, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jason says, with his lips up against Dick’s cheek. When did he lean in so close? How long has he been rubbing circles into Dick’s hip bones with his thumbs? It gets hard to think straight around this time. Everything goes soft. Fuzzy around the edges.

“Hopefully not,” Slade says. “That’s why we’re here. Your brother would have a few litters by now if he didn’t have an Alpha to keep him in line.”

“I guess I can assume you ‘keep him in line’ by…”

Dick trails off. Jason watches his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows.

“Fucking him out of his mind every night.” Slade breathes in when they both gasp, like he’s trying to drink up their reactions. “Yeah, that’s the long and short of it.”

“Okay,” Dick says. “Okay. I need to…”

He squirms, pushing and elbowing them to give himself some more room. Then he hangs his head, sucking down a few lungfuls of air, but Jason can hear it do little to calm his racing heart. His hands haven’t moved from their spots: one on Slade’s wrist, the other holding tightly onto Jason’s upper arm.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he says at last. “It’s not— It’s not right.”

Slade doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment. He leans forward and licks just under Dick’s ear. “Why’s that, pretty bird?”

“You’re not in your right minds,” Dick says. He sounds breathless, like he’s just run a marathon. “I’d be taking advantage.”

It’s Slade’s turn to laugh, loud and abrupt and barking. “You? Take advantage of us? That’s almost cute.”

“Wait,” Jason says. “Does that mean you… you actually  _ want _ to?”

Dick looks at him like a deer caught in headlights. He turns his head from Jason to Slade, who smirks at him in a way that can only be described as “maddeningly cocky.”

“Don’t say it,” he says. “Don’t you say anything.”

“Don’t worry, we can save the gloating for later,” Slade says. “Now, come on, birdy. My room’s the biggest.”

“Wait, what are you— Hey!” Dick squirms, but his movements are sloppy, caught in all the fabric of Slade’s too-big clothes. He can do little more than flail as Slade picks him up and tosses him over his shoulder like a prize. “I can walk myself!”

He bangs on Slade’s back and continues with his protests all the way to the bedroom. Jason follows behind, growling, all of a sudden worried that they might shut the door in his face if he doesn’t stick to Slade’s side like glue.

They don’t, thankfully. The door doesn’t get shut at all. Slade just drops Dick onto the bed, carefully marks his place in his book, and puts it down on the bedside table. He crawls on top of Dick, and Jason finds himself taken aback by how  _ broad _ he is in comparison. Slade drops the robe to reveal a fine dusting of coarse white fur across his shoulders and down a chest crisscrossed with scars. His muscles are huge and well-defined, the physique one would expect of a soldier and wolf-hybrid. Meanwhile, Dick, with his acrobat’s body, drowning in Slade’s clothes, looks like little more than a twig. Even though he knows it isn’t true, Jason can’t help but feel instantly protective of his brother.

He stands nearby while Slade takes Dick’s sweatpants between sharp teeth, dragging them down hands-free. They slide off easily, revealing Dick’s upright cock.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick breathes, covering his face and tilting his head back like he can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into. Jason can smell his arousal, too, not as potent as Slade’s, but still mouthwatering. “Slade…”

Jason’s growl comes louder, almost feral. Both Dick and Slade look over at him, Dick peeking through his fingers, Slade with an arched brow.

“Alpha,” Jason says with as much calm as he can muster. “I want to fuck him.”

The sound of Dick’s muffled gasp is music to his ears. He watches him spread his legs a little more out of the corner of his eye, but most of his focus is on the way Slade sits up, makes himself bigger.

“You can have him after I’m done,” he says.

Jason is new to being a werewolf. He’s even newer to being a werewolf in rut, especially one competing for a mate with a bigger, stronger wolf. To say his instincts don’t take the challenge kindly would be a disservice. He immediately lunges forward, snarling and snapping, and feels a twinge at the tops of his ears as they lengthen into points. The throbbing in his lower back tells him his tail will be next if he doesn’t tread carefully.

Slade rises into a higher kneel, reacting in kind. He doesn’t change any, though. His growl is louder and lower in pitch, and Jason trembles just hearing it, but he doesn’t back down. Like hell is he going to get  _ sloppy seconds _ when it comes to  _ his own damn brother,  _ his  _ packmate— _

“Guys, enough!” Dick sits up, arousal on his face replaced mostly by annoyance. “I’m flattered you wanna fight over me, but I  _ do _ get a say in this, y’know.”

Slade snaps out of it quick, ready with a slow smile and a not-too-sincere apology. “Right, of course you do. Don’t worry, pretty bird. I may not look it, but I’m a gentleman.”

It takes Jason a few seconds longer to back down out of fight mode. His growl slows to a low rumble, and some of the tension eases up in his shoulders. Cautiously, carefully, Dick reaches out a hand. Jason eyes it all the while, but doesn’t move. Then he…

He scratches behind one of Jason’s ears. They’re covered in fur by now, bigger and less human-shaped. Inadvertently, Jason leans into the touch, eyes going half-lidded. Rather than relax, he locks eyes with Dick, growling so softly that it may as well be a purr. With a softer attitude comes softer changes: the patches of fur along his hips and the outsides of his legs thicken into tufts. The trail of hair leading from his navel to his groin pads out, too. As per usual, when he’s focused on sex, the transformation starts heavier on his lower body.

Slade chuckles. It seems to spur Dick to look down, and when he notices Jason’s new coat, he licks his lips.

“A-are those… uncomfortable for you?” he asks. Tentatively, he reaches down to tug at the waistband of Jason’s boxer shorts.

Jason has to repeat the question in his mind several times before he’s able to focus on it long enough to answer. “Not anymore’n a hat.”

“Oh.” Dick worries his lip between his teeth. “Do you… want them off?”

“Yeah.”

Jason sits up immediately. Dick looks startled for a moment at his abruptness, but then he takes the fabric in both hands and drags it down Jason’s thighs. Jason watches his pupils dilate when his length comes into view, base framed by tangled black curls, flushed head leaking precum already. He wants to shove himself between Dick’s parted lips; the very thought makes his toes curl.

His toes…

“Ah, shit.”

Dick flashes him a quizzical look, but Slade merely laughs when Jason pulls one of his folded legs out from underneath himself. From just under the knee all the way down to his feet, his features have been replaced by a wolf’s. Thick black hair covers a straight, thin limb that bulges out into a big, clawed paw. He didn’t even realize it was happening. Some changes hurt more than others, and when he has his mind set on something, it’s easy to write off the shifting in his bones. Still weird as hell, but at least it isn’t painful.

“Told you you’d get carried away,” Slade says. Jason merely whimpers in assent.

Dick, meanwhile, seems more fascinated than anything. He leans forward to stroke down the back of Jason’s new calf, carding his fingers through short, stiff fur. “Whoa,” he says.

The position, with Dick bent over like that, leaves his mouth far too close to Jason’s cock. He feels his ears twitch. When he looks pleadingly up at Slade, they flatten out next to his head. Slade seems to consider him for a moment before plopping a heavy hand in his hair to give it a ruffle.

“Oh, what the hell,” he says. “Have fun, pup. Just be careful with him.”

Dick looks up at them then, and Jason looks back down, abruptly realizing that what Dick said is true: he gets a say in things as much as either of them. He feels a shameful sort of lewdness with his cock pointed at Dick’s mouth, and his ears stay low, brow furrowed, as he meets his eyes to ask for permission.

He doesn’t get a chance to say anything, as it turns out. Dick leans forward and captures the head of his cock with his tongue, then wraps a hand around the base to keep it steady. In seconds, he’s bobbing up and down, working his mouth so expertly that Jason has to wonder just how many times he’s done this.

And those eyes, Jesus  _ Christ. _ Dick keeps his eyes upturned the entire time, black ringed by a circle of the prettiest blue Jason’s ever seen in his life. (Granted, he figures he’d say that about just about any color right now, as long as it was on Dick.) He doesn’t know if Dick is asking for pointers, or approval, or if he just wants to see Jason’s face, but whatever the reason, it sets his whole body aflame. He lets out a surprisingly human groan, rocking his hips forward.

He doesn’t dare grab the back of Dick’s head, though. He doesn’t trust himself that much.

“Christ, you stink,” Slade says, ever the gentleman.

Jason’s nostrils flare from embarrassment, but he has to admit once he lets himself notice: he  _ is _ pungent. Between the pheromones of a fertile wolf and the thick sweat and musk he can almost taste, he must smell overwhelming to someone with a nose as sensitive as a werewolf’s.

Dick just pulls back long enough to breathe “I think he smells good” against the side of his cock. Then he goes at it again, sucking and licking and twisting his hand just right, and Jason swears he loves him.

“What a nice birdy.” When Slade trails his knuckle down Dick’s cheek, Jason can see his claws are out. Maybe his self-control isn’t so ironclad after all. “Care to spread the love?”

Dick rolls his eyes and pulls off of Jason’s cock with a  _ pop. _ He glances down at Slade’s lap, where his thick cock stands unobstructed, because of course he hadn’t been wearing anything under the robe. Jason sees him try to suppress a shudder at the sight and can’t blame him for it; even without Jason’s pack instincts telling him how objectively nice it is, with its throbbing veins and big, heavy balls, it’s a nice cock to look at. Uncut and thick, proportional in size to Slade himself, it wouldn’t be out of place in a porno.

Dick seems to share his sentiment. Jason can  _ smell _ his mouth water, but ever the chatty one, he of course can’t just leave things at that.

“If it’ll keep you from tearing each other’s throats out…”

And then he leans forward and gives the very tip a kiss. Those eyes must work on Slade, too, because Jason gets hit with a faceful of pheromones, so potent that he shifts where he kneels and whimpers a bit. Dick shoots him a worried look out of the corner of his eye, but Jason waves him off.

“I’m fine,” he says, scrubbing under his nose to try and dilute some of the scent and cover up his mouth. “He wants you bad, Dickie.”

He knows he said the right thing when a grin spreads over Dick’s face.

“Is that so?” he asks, looking back up at Slade. He lays a few more feather-light kisses over the tip of his cock. Only after the last one does his pink tongue poke out to trail up the slit.

“Kid,” Slade says, clenching and unclenching his fists. “You’re gonna wanna suck that.”

Dick either doesn’t get it, or doesn’t care. He keeps smiling, opening his mouth wider to lick just under the head while he does it. His hand, barely able to wrap around the base, teases Slade’s cock at the same time, thumb running up and down the thick protrusion on the underside.

“Oh, am I?” He chuckles with his lips pressed against the head, then opens wide to lick some more. “Is that what I want? Hunh?”

“Dick…” Jason warns, but it’s too late.

Slade, who has no reservations about controlling his strength, grabs the back of Dick’s head and forces him down. Dick makes a muffled noise of surprise, but it’s quickly eclipsed by the wet sound of Slade fucking in and out of his mouth. Saliva wells up at the corners of his lips and drips down over his chin; even more when Slade dips down into his throat, deep enough that Jason can see the bulge of it himself, until Dick gags.

Jason grabs onto Slade’s arm and kisses up his neck, throwing in just the right amount of tooth and tongue that he knows he likes. “Slade,” he says, “Alpha, Alpha, c’mon, don’t hurt him…”

He continues peppering him with kisses and pleas until, finally, Slade tugs Dick back by his hair. Dick’s face is a mess, splotchy red and leaking thick drool that connects him to Slade’s cock and drips down to puddle on the bed sheets. Those beautiful eyes of his look like they’re watering, and for a second, Jason perks up from his ears to his toes, ready to rush to his aid.

Dick surprises him by rising to his knees and covering his mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. The taste of Slade’s musk on Dick’s tongue is at once a challenge and a delight. Jason kisses back like he’s trying to lick every trace of Slade out of Dick’s mouth, even though he’s still a little confused.

When Dick finally pulls away, gasping for breath, his gaze is so intense that Jason almost mistakes him for a fellow wolf. Clutching Jason’s cheek, he says, “Don’t.”

“H-huh…?”

“Don’t ever act like you need to protect me. I  _ want _ to be here. I won’t let either of you do anything I don’t want you to.”

He hears more than sees Slade’s grin out of his periphery, that impressed little one-breath chuckle that comes out mostly through his nose. For a second, he just gapes.

“Oh, um, uh… Sure.” He gulps. “Yeah, I knew that.”

Some of the intensity on Dick’s face clears up, and he smirks. Leaning forward, he steals one last kiss, dragging Jason’s lower lip back between his teeth when he retreats. “Good.”

He backs off completely, then pulls Slade’s oversized shirt off with one smooth motion. The pants, still bunched up around his knees, are next. For those, he gets a little… theatrical. Far be it from Dick Grayson to do anything less. He flops onto his back, then lifts his legs straight up, both of them pressed together. He lowers them toward his chest and stretches his body in a way Jason wouldn’t believe was possible coming from anyone else, then pulls off and tosses away the pants.

He and Slade stare, focused intently on the curves of Dick’s ass and the visible pucker of his entrance. Dick wraps an arm around his legs to keep them in place, grinning at them with half-lidded eyes with his feet practically flat against the headboard.

“Glad I’ve got your attention,” he jokes.

“You’ll have a lot more than that in a second,” Slade says.

Dick’s face flushes with lust. He bites his lip, pointedly staring at their cocks. “I hope you don’t plan on trying to just shove it in. I’m not  _ that _ flexible.”

“‘Course not, pumpkin,” Slade says, bending down. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it.”

“Don’t call me tha _ ahhht—” _

Slade cuts him off by laving a wide tongue over his hole. Dick’s eyes flutter shut, and he presses the heel of his free hand into his mouth. Jason’s torn; he loves watching Dick’s face, but he wants to be the one to make him look like that, too. For now, he settles on taking him by the wrist and gently pulling his hand away. His over-sensitive ears pick up every little gasp and moan. Dick’s heart is beating faster than ever, and the lewd squelching of Slade thrusting his tongue in and out of his ass makes Jason’s cock throb.

“H-he’s…  _ Ahh… _ H-his tongue is… inside, Jay,” Dick says, staring up at him with glazed-over eyes.

“I know,” Jason says. He licks his lips. “Feels good, doesn’t it? He does it to me, too.”

“Ooh.” Dick closes his eyes again, turning his head toward his legs. Jason wonders briefly how the hell it doesn’t hurt to stay folded up like that for so long, but his curiosity is quickly overtaken by the urge to lick the newly-exposed skin of Dick’s neck.

He leans down, lapping and sucking at the skin until marks blossom on the surface, some bright pink, others tinged with small purple bruises. Dick moans while he’s marked up, taken from both ends. Slade’s bound to be irritated at the visibility of Jason’s marks, but he got to taste Dick’s ass first, so as far as Jason is concerned, he can’t complain.

It isn’t long before his own breaths start to come out faster. He feels his neglected cock leak precum, but catches himself before he can grind against the bed and prove Slade right. Still, the sun is down by now. He can feel it in his bones. Fur trails over his shoulders and the hair on his forearms thickens. His claws draw little pinpricks of blood where he holds Dick’s wrist, and his nostrils flare. Human blood is always the best. People taste better than cows and sheep hands-down.

“ _ Teeth, _ ” Slade says in his Alpha tone, and Jason bristles, pulling back.

“I-I wasn’t biting!” he says. When Dick shoots him a concerned look, he repeats, “I wasn’t!”

“Wait, I— I won’t turn into… y’know…” Dick says. “...if one of you bites, will I?”

“Not unless it’s the full moon,” Slade says. “We’ve still got a couple days before it hits its peak. But it’s good practice not to do it at all, unless you wanna lose control when it counts.”

Jason huffs, red in the face, and sits back. “I know that.”

“ _ He _ doesn’t.” Slade nods toward Dick, who, to his credit, looks relieved. “Sorry if you’re into that sorta thing, kid, but I won’t risk it.”

“No,” Dick exhales. “No, that’s fine.” After a beat of them all just sitting there, he says, “So, um, could you go back to…?”

“Hah! Well, since you asked so nicely.” Slade grins, but instead of bending over, he claps Jason on the back. “How about it, pup? Put that oral fixation of yours to good use.”

Jason mumbles something to the effect of “I don’t have an  _ oral fixation, _ ” but he doesn’t object.

With an exhale, Dick releases his legs. One of them settles back onto the bed, while the other rests on Jason’s shoulder. He wears an easy smile that Jason can’t believe is meant for him, kind and sultry all at once.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Jason’s eyes stay locked on his the entire time he shimmies down the mattress and bends forward.

Dick smells of Slade already. Jason isn’t prepared for how strongly the urge to cover up that scent hits him. He drags his tongue over every inch of Slade’s spit, focusing more on licking it up than on pleasuring Dick. By the time he nuzzles forward and presses his tongue inside, Dick is panting, quick and ragged things that heave his chest with every breath. Those breaths taper off into a moan, and he feels Dick’s heels settle on his back.

Behind him, Slade presses up against his backside. Jason widens his legs a little bit on instinct, ass arching back to grind against Slade’s cock. It’s hot and thick and  _ god _ he wants it inside him, but he wants to be inside of Dick even more.

He feels himself drooling, spit dripping down the curve of Dick’s ass where he has it cupped in his hands. Dick, in turn, grinds up against his face, hips lifted off of the bed, rocking back and forth with the movements of Jason’s tongue.

“Oh my god, Jason…  _ Jason— _ ” His nails scrape up against the headboard, while he clutches Jason’s hair with his other hand. “Y-your  _ tongue— _ ”

His tongue? What about it? Something about Dick’s tone sounds less like generic, lusty babble and more like a question. Jason pulls back, and realizes instantly what he was talking about: his tongue is a few inches longer than normal, flatter, with a different texture than a human’s. He’s used to the change, but Dick…

“Suh-sorry,” he pants, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Kinda weird, huh…?”

Dick just looks at him with that same hard gaze from when they kissed before. He tugs insistently on Jason’s hair and says, “No. Not weird.”

Jason takes that as his cue to go back to what he was doing. Slade, with one broad hand set on the small of his back, laughs.

“Now, if I didn’t know better,” he says, “I’d figure you had a  _ thing _ for the stuff that goes bump in the night, Grayson.”

Even with his head sandwiched firmly between Dick’s thighs, Jason can feel Slade’s grin. He imagines it sharp-toothed and devious, the Big Bad Wolf with one less eye and a track record a little naughtier than blowing down houses. He rocks back until he feels Slade’s precum smear up against the crack of his ass.

Dick shudders. “In our, ah, line of work—”

“Oh, can it.” Slade slaps Dick’s thigh hard enough to make Jason’s ears ring and Dick’s muscles clench around his tongue. “I see the look in your eyes whenever your boy here starts to look that much less human.”

Jason looks up in time to see Dick flush scarlet. “Nngh, don’t say stuff like that…”

“Why not? It’s true. Here, boy,” Slade says, tugging Jason up onto his knees. He’s reluctant to go when Dick tastes so lovely, but he obeys nonetheless. “Let’s get a look at you.”

Jason’s breath comes out shorter when Slade wraps an arm around him to grab his cock. His grip is firm, just on the other side of painful; Jason whimpers, but strains forward into Slade’s fist anyway.

“There it is.” One by one, Slade’s fingers uncurl, while Dick looks on in fascination. Slade lifts his cock just enough to show off the way the bottom bulges out and the top tapers in.

“What is…?” Dick mutters, sitting up.

“Stop…!” Jason moves to cover himself, but Slade swats his hands away with a growl. He whimpers again. “Don’t look— Shit, so fucking embarrassing…”

“You know a lot about wolves, Grayson?” Slade asks. “About how they mate?”

“I—” Dick frowns. “It’s not something I’ve ever gone out of my way to study, but I know the basics.”

“So you know what a knot is.”

Jason groans, covering his face with both his hands. “Slade, he doesn’t wanna hear about gross stuff like that, Christ!”

“It’s not gross,” Dick says quickly. “I just didn’t realize— On a human, it looks… different.”

Slade, unabashed as ever, doesn’t miss a beat. “Want it inside you, pretty bird?”

Jason prepares himself for a lot of reactions. Disgust. Hesitation. A witty one-liner that directs the conversation away from the question.

What he doesn’t expect is for Dick to nod his head.

“Good sport,” Slade says. “Turn over. On your knees. Give my boy here a nice view.”

Dick shudders. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He lies down on his stomach anyway.

Jason squirms in Slade’s grasp, not sure if he wants to run for the hills or mount Dick and fuck like a goddamn rabbit. The insistent throbbing of his cock makes a damn good argument for the latter, though.

“Y-your boy,” he repeats, tasting the words with a swipe of his long tongue. “Oh, god…”

He’s Slade’s. Slade is his Alpha. He  _ wants _ Slade to be his Alpha, craves the direction, the steadying hand to guide him so that he doesn’t lose himself. The camaraderie that comes with the transformation is like nothing he’s ever felt before, and he feels it tug more and more at his mind the higher the moon gets in the sky. He wants not only to be owned by Slade, but to welcome this new member into their pack, to claim something for them and then turn it over to his Alpha.

Slade leans forward to grab a big, half-empty bottle of lube from the night stand. Jason only registers the heat of his body, the hair on his chest up against his back. Slade is masculine and mature and level-headed, everything that Jason’s instincts go wild for. He growls when Slade starts to slick him up, but Slade just comforts him by nipping at his neck and muttering encouragement against his skin.

“Nice and wet, there you go. Don’t wanna break your new little toy, eh, pup? Steady now, steady… You can take him when I tell you.”

It’s a good thing Slade’s voice is so grounding, because Dick has started fingerfucking himself, and it’s all Jason can focus on. His soft little moans and gasping breaths shoot vibrations straight to his cock, and Jason squirms in Slade’s arms, eager to break free and have at his catch. He wants to fuck this pretty little human. Wants to fill it up with his hot, sticky cum and watch its belly swell with his young. Wants to see the pride on his Alpha’s face when he fills up their pack with strong, beautiful, deadly cross-breeds.

He can’t remember being human anymore. Dick pulls his fingers out and shifts up onto his hands and knees, and Slade holds Jason by the waist and by the cock, growling wordlessly now.

Slowly, steadily, it tapers off into one command.

“ _ Go. _ ”

As soon as Slade lifts his hands, Jason jumps forward, mounting Dick. He’s never tried such a position before, with his hands by Dick’s sides and his teeth by the back of his neck, but it feels right. He starts rocking his hips before he’s even inside; for a moment or two, all he does is smear precum all over Dick’s backside, before the tapered head of his cock catches on his hole and presses inside.

Dick whines like a bitch in heat, but to his credit, he takes it like a champ. Granted, Jason’s cock is slimmer now than it would be if he were human, but he’s not nearly as considerate. He holds onto Dick’s hips and practically pulls him back onto his cock with every thrust, eliciting a high “ _ ah-ah-ah _ ” noise that he’s never heard Dick make before. He says things, too, but none of them make sense to Jason, not now that he’s more wolf than human.

Behind him, he feels a hand wrap around his tail — he didn’t feel it emerge, but it’s there now, like an anchor — and tug him until his angle changes. That’s what  _ really _ gets Dick going. He babbles incoherent, whiny things, rocking back hard against Jason. The hand at his tail moves to his hips, both of them on either side keeping him steady, Slade’s pheromones draped over him like a thick winter blanket.

One, two, three thrusts more, and Jason feels his knot slip into Dick. He stills, and Dick clenches around him, hips still moving in sloppy little circles.

Jason snaps at Dick’s neck, but Slade catches him by the chin before he can bite. “ _ No, _ ” he says, and it cuts clear through the lust-induced fog in his mind. “Bad pup. Bad pup.”

Jason growls and drools thick, pheromone-heavy saliva over Slade’s hand and Dick’s back. He shifts his hips, baring his teeth, and then comes, with Dick’s muscles throbbing all around him.

They stay like that, Jason growling, Dick whimpering, until Slade is convinced he won’t bite. As soon as he lets go, Jason crowds up against Dick’s back, face tucked into his neck, chest rumbling with protective little noises. He drags the both of them down onto their sides, one furry leg slung over both of Dick’s own.

Slowly but surely, his senses — and his ability to understand speech — come back to him.

“—to cum,” Dick is saying. “Please, Slade, c’mon, touch me, don’t just  _ sit there _ , you bastard—”

“Patience,” Slade tells him. “Let his knot go down. Don’t you worry, pretty bird, I’ll take care of you.”

Jason sighs. The words aren’t meant for him, but their tone calms him down. He lies there with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, panting, until his breathing slows and his heavy eyelids droop.

 

Jason’s hot breaths even out against the back of his neck. Dick waits impatiently, straining for release. The swell of Jason’s knot presses against him even when he tries to relax, and he exhales sharply, gritting his teeth. One of Jason’s arms is slung over his waist; with his hand on top of it, Dick realizes Jason’s arms are longer, his hands bigger, covered in downy fur on top, his fingernails lengthened into dangerous, half-inch-long claws. It’s uncanny, it’s  _ monstrous, _ but the sight only stirs the arousal in the pit of his gut that he’s trying so hard to tamp down.

“Slade,” he breathes, trailing his fingers through the fur on Jason’s forearm. “A-are you ever... going to turn…?”

Slade smirks, showing off pointed canines. Aside from his teeth, his claws, and the excess of thick hair sprouting up over most of his body, he still looks entirely human. Even his cock, which he strokes slowly in a loose fist, doesn’t look any different; no knot, no change in shape. Nothing.

“Do you want me to?” he asks.

Dick flushes and looks away. “Doesn’t matter to me. I just… don’t wanna be surprised, is all.”

It’s probably the most transparent lie he’s ever told. Slade chuckles.

“How much do you want to see, birdy? You like being knotted? Being trapped under a monster? I can do that.”

Dick breathes out carefully. He inadvertently rolls his hips, and Jason’s cock slips out of him, wet with what feels like an impossible amount of cum. The sudden emptiness aches.

“I…”

He bites his lip and takes a moment to ponder that this is Slade he’s talking to. Slade Wilson. Deathstroke the Terminator, his enemy since his teenage years (and reluctant subject of some of his masturbatory fantasies for about as long). This would be a bad idea even without the werewolf wildcard in place.

Well. He  _ does _ like falling without a net.

“...I want you to let go as much as you can. Knot me.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “Make me afraid.”

Slade actually has the decency to look surprised at first. It’s quick to melt away into something dangerous, something that burns fire into Dick’s skin when Slade rakes his eyes up and down his body. His lips curl back to reveal the pink sliver of his tongue caught between big, sharp teeth, and, without any further warning, he barks.

The sound is so loud and abrupt that it wakes Jason up, and in his panic, he draws his arm back and accidentally rakes his nails across Dick’s side. A few more barks have him whimpering, and he jumps off the bed and scurries into the corner of the room on all fours. It’s only then that Dick gets to appreciate how big he’s gotten, with a hunched back and limbs long enough to facilitate his new gait. His wide eyes catch the light like an animal’s does, shining bright in the dark corner, but he only sees them for a second before Jason curls up and begins to lick between his legs. His cock looks bright red now, receding into a furry pouch against his abdomen. Dick wonders how long he’s been like that.

He doesn’t get much of a chance to ponder. He feels heavy breathing at his injured side a second before a big, flat tongue starts to lap away the blood. When he looks down, the person… monster…  _ thing _ between his legs hardly looks like the man from before, save for the missing right eye and stark-white fur.

Its face is some strange mix between human and wolf, with a stout muzzle and sloped brow. He can still see a hint of Slade’s goatee, but there’s so much fur there that it hardly stands out. The hair on Slade’s head blends expertly with the fur of his pointed ears and the coarse stuff that covers most of the rest of his body. He has the same hunched back as Jason, but he’s bigger, with thicker, longer limbs and no hint of skin anywhere. His hands, curled into the sheets, look more like paws with long, separated fingers than anything.

Dick has no idea how much more Slade can transform, or if he has any changes left to go through at all. He’s so large that he wonders how the bed hasn’t broken yet, and gets the distinct feeling that he’s bitten off more than he can chew.

“Slade,” he says, chest rising and falling with careful breath. Slade looks up at him with one single, too-human eye, white muzzle stained red with blood, lips pulling back to show off teeth big enough to fit in the palm of his hand. “Oh, god…”

He’s definitely scared. It’s worse than a freefall 50 stories above ground with no grapple, more intimate than the thought of the concrete rising up to meet his face. This isn’t something he’s used to, isn’t something he can control. If things go wrong, he doesn’t know how he’s going to get out of it.

It’s perfect.

As if sensing his thoughts, Slade rears back and grabs hold of Dick with both paws. He flips him over carelessly, tearing more gashes into his sides, and all Dick can do is muffle his yelps of pain in the pillows and claw at the sheets. Slade’s huge nose presses between his legs, sniffing and pushing him up onto his knees all at once. This time, when he licks, it’s careless, not intended for Dick’s pleasure as much as it is to give Slade a taste of him. A low growl tells him he’s not a fan of Jason’s scent pouring out of his hole.

When Slade sits up, heavy muzzle resting on his back and front paws braced against his sides, Dick hangs his head low and looks between his legs. He sees more red, but not from blood; it’s Slade’s cock, big and knotted, shiny with precum. From the looks of it, it’s almost as big as Dick’s forearm. He exhales sharply.

“You’re gonna break me,” he says. “It won’t fit.  _ Slade— _ ”

Slade just growls, throat rumbling against Dick’s back like an earthquake. He tugs him back, and unlike with Jason, his cock goes right inside. Dick yowls at the feeling of just half of it penetrating him, only spit and the remnants of Jason’s cum slicking him up. Slade’s fur sticks to his sweat-drenched back, the sound of his ragged breaths not unlike thunder in the distance. He starts thrusting without regard for Dick’s comfort, and Dick’s cascade of high-pitched yelps rouses Jason from his corner.

Heavy footfalls pace from one side of the bed to the other and back again. Dick can’t see through his tears and the blistering burst of pleasure-pain crawling up his back, but he can hear Jason whimpering, can feel his wet nose occasionally poking at his neck and shoulders. A few times, a weight settles on the side of the bed, like big paws pushing down on the mattress, but Slade barks every time to scare Jason off.

Dick becomes keenly aware of how he sounds: he’s dazed, mouth open and drooling, groaning so much that he hardly has time to breathe. He sounds like he could be dying. Feels like it, too, with Slade’s cock pressing outward against his belly. He can see it bulge, head still slung down between his folded arms.

But he’s still hard. Hard and dripping, actually, leaking out a steady stream of thick, white cum even though he hasn’t felt himself orgasm yet. He’s read about prostate stimulation and how different it is than a normal orgasm, and supposes that makes sense; even pulling out, Slade’s still big enough to crowd up against his prostate nonstop.

Slade barks again, close enough to his ears to make them ring. Thrusting harder, he rears back, then, in a few short jerks, he buries his impossibly thick knot inside Dick. He doesn’t know what sound he makes, can only hear Slade tilt his head back and howl. Jason responds beside them with a few yips, then joins him in howling, and the noise throbs inside Dick’s head, in the marrow of his very bones.

It’s too much. He strains, but Slade’s cock stays knotted inside him, and his struggles just end up milking spurt upon spurt of thick cum out of Slade. Under him, Dick shudders and gasps, gashes burning, insides throbbing, and in a last-ditch effort at some kind of normalcy, he reaches down between his legs and jerks himself until his aching cock dribbles out the last bits of cum it can muster.

He becomes vaguely aware that  _ he’s _ the one sobbing, “Yes, yes, yeah, yes,  _ yes _ ” before he loses consciousness.

* * *

 

He awakes in the morning with bandages wrapped around his waist and an electric blanket draped over his body. No, not morning — the clock across the room reads 2:35. He gets up with some difficulty, every muscle in his body screaming with pain that the heat from the blanket can’t hope to erase. He feels like his insides have been rearranged, and when he moves, sticky cum leaks out to drip down his thighs.

On the armchair in the corner of the room next to the lamp, a set of clothes have been laid out for him. He pulls them on, relieved to find that they’re much smaller than Slade’s. They smell like Jason, and Jason smells like home.

By the time he makes his way into the main room and slumps with his head in his arms at the dining room table, he’s had about a dozen apologies slung at him, all of them from Jason (Slade is there, too, but he leans silently against the sink, coffee mug in hand, just watching). He gets offered a big breakfast of every protein from eggs to bacon to ham to sausage, but takes his time sipping on orange juice instead.

About the thirtieth time Jason flashes him those sad puppy eyes and calls himself an insensitive horny douchebag, Dick reaches out to lay a hand over his mouth.

“Little Wing,” he says, “shush.”

Jason shoots him a cautious, inquisitive look. Dick flashes an easy smile.

“If it’s only twice a year, and it’ll convince you to come back to Gotham… I think I could take one for the team and help you out.”

“But—” Jason says as soon as his mouth is free. “But you look— You don’t have to—”

“Pup,” Slade says, not roughly at all, but it still makes Jason’s back go straight. He laughs. “He’s trying to tell you he had a good time.”

Jason looks back at Dick in disbelief. Dick’s cheeks go pink, and he shrugs.

“All the most fun things are a little dangerous, right?”

Jason blinks. He glances between Dick and Slade, then slowly, carefully takes a seat at the table next to Dick, corner of his mouth tilted up into a crooked smile.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me about furry garbage on my [tumblr](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
